


Holding Us Together, Not Tearing Us Apart

by lisachan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Lemon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:29:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5170943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Straight out of Hogwarts, James and Sirius get their first apartment together. It's right outside London, the view is absolutely amazing and this is supposed to be something nice -- who wouldn't want to share a flat with their best mate in the world after all?<br/>Well, apparently, not Sirius -- not at these conditions, at least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Us Together, Not Tearing Us Apart

**Author's Note:**

> So! After years of not only my girlfriend but my whole inner circle of dearest friends insisting on the matter, I finally gave in and started reading Harry Potter. I'm enjoying the trip so far, but the only thing which blew my mind (well, except Hermione and Severus, if we have to be honest) is the whole Marauders thing. I fell for it completely, I loved it, I suffered for it in unspeakable ways, especially for the whole Sirius and James and Remus thing, which basically breaks my heart being, as I see it, one of the most heartbreaking and at the same time heartwarming love stories ever told.   
> So, as if JKR had been reading my mind all the while, she recently [tweeted](https://twitter.com/jk_rowling/status/661584049329324032) about James and Sirius moving in together for the first time in 1978. That woman is A MONSTER. "No crying, now" my ass, Joanne.   
> Anyway! That tweet literally milked this story out of me. I know it's long, I'm sorry. I had to push it out. I'm filled with so much love right now <3  
> Hope you enjoy!

"This room is huge," said Sirius, taking a few steps into it and watching every detail carefully, with loving eyes, "I'm calling dibs on it."

"What? No," James answered instantly, shaking his head, "No, this isn't gonna be a bedroom."

"But I want it," Sirius insisted, moving closer to the window. The sight was astonishing. He could see London in the distance, evanescent and shrouded in a thick veil of fog as if enchanted, the Thames cutting it in half, a curvy silver line slithering through the city. He wanted to wake up with his eyes on this every single morning.

"Sorry, Padfoot, this you can't have," James smiled, pulling him back and away from the window, "This is the room where we're gonna have a thousand parties."

"No, we won't," Sirius answered, frowning lightly, "We don't need all this space. We're four. Plus, we have the most of our fun in parks and forests, we really don't need a room."

"It's not gonna be only us," James laughed, amused. Sirius wanted to tell him right there and then how much he disagreed with the notion, but James didn't let him. "Here," he said, holding his hand and tugging at him, urging him out of the room and down the hallway into yet another room, slightly smaller than the other but still quite spacious, "We're gonna sleep in this one."

"We?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah," James shrugged, "I mean, we've shared a bedroom almost half our life."

"That was a dorm."

James waved his hand in mid-air, dismissively. "Same difference."

"Not really. And even so, that's just all the more reason to stop doing it now, don't you think?" Sirius smirked, "Haven't you held on to me long enough, Prongs?"

James smiled widely at him, his hazel eyes shining in the cold light of the morning. "Not nearly," he answered honestly. 

Sirius could always trust him not to ever get a joke. And also killing him inside with each and every answer every time he didn't.

*

"I disagree with this," Sirius said, taking a step back from the king sized bed in the middle of the room.

"What?" James frowned, disappointed, "Why?"

"Because I don't see why we have to share a bed."

James shrugged lightly. "I don't see why not. You do it with Remus."

"James!" Sirius blushed instantly, looking at him in shock, "That's different."

"Why are you blushing?" James blinked, staring at him as if he had suddenly conjured a blue beard on his own face, "I've been knowing about you for ages."

"That's so completely beyond the point," Sirius groaned, passing a hand over his face, "You... I just can't, with you."

"Yes, I know, I'm completely impossible to be could with."

"Shut up," Sirius whined again, "This makes no sense whatsoever. What I do with Remus is my business."

"Undoubtedly."

"And doesn't even involve beds most of the time."

"Good to know."

"And it's different than what we're doing here, entirely different!"

"Would've never noticed if you hadn't told me."

"Why am I still speaking, do I want to dig myself a deeper hole?"

"I have no idea, Sirius," James laughed. Sirius loved to hear his name in that laughter. It was excruciatingly embarrassing. "I suggest you stop talking right now."

"Agreed."

"And also get into bed with me right away."

"Yes. Wait, what?"

"It's late!" James laughed, "And I'm tired. And we're having Remus, Peter and Lily over, tomorrow, so we've got a lot of work ahead of us."

"Why are we throwing a party? I don't want to be throwing a party. I also don't want to get into bed with you just now."

"Sirius, don't be silly," James turned his back on him, taking off his clothes to put something more comfortable on, "It's just a party. And it's just a bed."

"None of those things is _just_ anything," Sirius said, resolutely, "And I'm not coming."

"To bed or to the party?"

"To either of them."

*

Sirius stared at the ceiling with his eyes wide open, stared at the ceiling as he listened to the wild thumping of his own heart, to the roar of his blood in his ears, and to James' slow breathing, a sound apparently able to surpass all others in volume, despite being so damn soft.

"Is it so bad?" James asked in a low voice, "To share a bed with me?"

No, of course the answer was no.

"Just weird," he said, "I'm not used to it."

"How is it with Remus?"

Sirius groaned, turning on his side. "I could ask the same about you and Evans, couldn't I?"

He could hear James prop himself up on his elbows and turn his eyes on him. He could feel his gaze like little pinches on his nape. "And I could answer," he said, "But do you really wanna know?"

Sirius held onto the pillow, digging his nails into it. He hated him, sometimes, he really did. He was unbearable, he was, and he knew it, and he did nothing to conceal it. 

"Why do you ask?" he said then, still refusing to look at him.

Took James quite some time to answer. "Because I really wanna know," he said then. 

"Why?"

James lied down on the bed again, sighing softly. "Dunno," he answered honestly, "I just want to, I guess. Feels weird not to know something about you."

"You know about me and Remus, you said it yourself."

"I know _of_ it," James corrected him, "I know nothing about it. How it works. How it feels. You know. Sometimes I'm curious."

His heart was going to blow, Sirius thought, clutching the pillow in his fist, his heart was gonna blow, and if it wasn't, it was just gonna stop beating. No heart could take something like that. No person. Certainly not him.

"Go to sleep, Prongs," he said, trying to sound playful, as if this was just a big joke - it was not, hadn't been for years, now, James would have known, if he had just bothered to listen, to look, whatever, just once in the last seven years, but what could Sirius do beside keep the mask up, keep playing, as though it was all fun and games, despite the pain working his heart into a mass of ruins every single time. "You said it yourself, didn't you? Big day, tomorrow."

James was sleeping already. Of course.

*

He woke up the morning after, meaning he had probably fallen asleep during the night, at some point.

He turned his face. The white curtains on the window made no effort trying to keep the pale morning light outside, made no effort shielding James' face from it. 

Sirius stared at him, wishing he could stop. He was making a fool of himself, acting so weirdly, doing nothing to try and keep the secret safe. It was annoying, this lack of control, the way his mind seemed to have surrendered to James completely, as if just sharing the same space was enough to grant him dominion over everything he thought and felt and was. 

Has it always been like this?, he wondered vaguely as he let his eyes follow the strong line of James' jaw, as he indulged in following the curve of his neck, the outline of his muscles as they dove into the collar of his t-shirt, how softly his chest moved up and down with each and every breath, has it always been like this, and have I never noticed? 

Suddenly he realized - he hadn't looked out once yet since he had woken up. 

So much for foggy London and slithering silver Thames.

*

"You look tired," Remus said, offering him a small, sweet smile that was ninety percent sugar-coating and ten percent apology.

Sirius huffed, annoyed at himself for being so easily readable, or perhaps at him for reading him so easily, and moved closer to him on the big brown leather couch James had demanded to put in the room, right underneath the window. "Because I am," he answered in a low growl. 

Remus chuckled, passing his fingers through Sirius' messy hair. "You aren't sleeping well, are you?"

"I would be," Sirius answered, nodding towards James, "If he let me."

"So he convinced you," Remus said in a short laughter that echoed in Sirius' ears like some sort of apocalyptic forewarning. 

He turned to look at him, anxiety clouding his eyes. "...so you knew about it?"

"Of course," Remus answered, "Come on, you know James. He would have never decided he was gonna sleep with you without telling me first."

"Yeah..." Sirius sighed, "He's that stupid."

"He's that honest," Remus said with a little smile. 

It crushed him - Remus' kindness. His was possibly the softest heart Sirius had ever known. That was why it had been so easy to fall for him, to trust with him every secret of his heart. It made him sick to his stomach having to be so selfish about James all the time, as it had made him sick to his stomach having to tell Remus right from the start there was a part of his own heart that would be forever inaccessible to anyone who wasn't James, but he loved Remus too much, and cared too much for him, to lie about that. 

Besides, he had to lie enough already. 

"You have nothing to worry about, you know that, right?" he said. A few feet away, James was trying to turn Peter back to his own self after mistakenly changing him into a purple rabbit. He was laughing his usual shameless laughter while Peter protested and Evans scolded him for being such a troublemaker. Sirius had to make an effort not to turn to look at him. It was as simple as that, really, if he had to sum it up. It was just painfully difficult for him to pry himself away from James. There was nothing more than that to it, but nothing less either. 

Remus looked at him for a moment and then leant in for a kiss. "Do I look worried?" he asked softly, speaking on his lips. 

Sirius just moved closer, pressing his own lips to his in a more urgent kiss, that turned into another, and then another, until Peter's voice, sounding normal again, came to him in a whiny tone. "Ew, you two, get a room!"

"Yeah, I wish," Sirius said, searching for James' eyes. 

He could've sworn he'd seen a mischievous light in them when they stared right back at him.

*

"You had fun, today, didn't you?" James said, grinning widely as he took off his pants.

Sirius turned around, averting his eyes. He hated that. There was just no excuse for James behaving like that, no excuse for his mockery, being it on purpose or not, no excuse for his smile and how beautiful he looked despite the seriously uncomplimentary yellow light of the bedroom lamp hanging uncovered from the ceiling, no excuse for his "I told you so" attitude and how unfair of him it was, really, to be like he was, to be this always cheerful, always confident, always perfect human being carelessly dropping the weight of his perfection on anybody who would just look at him.

Sirius had dared to think it had been hard to share a dorm with him for seven years, to share his life with him for seven years, but he had to admit now he had no idea what hard even was. How difficult it was to go on day after day knowing James would be there every time he opened his eyes, or looked in front of himself. He brushed his teeth and he saw him walking past him in the mirror, he walked into a room and he heard him sing softly just a few feet away, he went to bed and there he was, talking endlessly until he fell asleep, he woke up and he was still there, sleeping soundly, his face as perfect as if sculpted by magic itself.

He was everywhere, couldn't be escaped from.

This was torture, this was hell.

And he'd known torture, he'd known hell.

"Can we not?" he said wearily, taking off his pants and shirt and slipping quickly underneath the covers.

"Aw, come on, Padfoot, come on," James joked, joining him, "You've become so stuck up since we moved in here, I swear. You weren't like this back at my folk's place."

"We were boys then, James."

"And now we're not anymore?"

"No, we're not," Sirius sighed, resisting the urge to turn to look at him, "We're all grown up, now. Romantically involved with people that aren't Quidditch players' stickers and all that, you know."

James laughed, hitting him on his shoulder. "Speak for yourself," he said, "I still consider myself pretty deeply involved with some of them."

Sirius sighed again, turning around this time. "Tell me something," he said.

"Whatever you need," James answered with a charming smile.

"Shut up, please."

"How can I tell you anything if--"

"Just shut up, Prongs, don't force me to make you."

James lifted both his arms in surrender and then gestured as if to zip his lips closed. Then he offered him a smile. Sirius accepted it as a gift.

"Tell me, now," he said, "What does Evans think of all this?"

"All this?" James blinked, looking confusedly at him, "What are we talking about?"

"This. Us living together."

"Well, I couldn't live with her, could I? Her parents would set me on fire."

"And righteously so."

"Ha ha, Padfoot, ha ha."

"What about us sleeping together, though?"

James looked confused once again, and Sirius had to keep himself from slapping him right across his face in annoyance. How dared he look so clueless about this? About everything?

"Why would she have to know?"

Sirius backed away a few inches, frowning at him. "You mean you haven't told her?"

"Of course I haven't," James answered nonchalantly, as if he wasn't speaking utter nonsense, "Why would I tell her something like this?"

"Well, you told Remus, didn't you?"

"What's that have to do with anything?"

Sirius looked intently at him, trying to figure him out. Was he being serious, right now? Did he seriously struggle to get why this was important, of all things? "James, what the hell are we doing here?" he whispered in a shaky voice, trying not to give in to his rage, "What is this, are you playing with me?"

"Sirius," James sat up and looked down at him, his eyes filled with worry, "How can you say something like that-- What have I done?"

"Oh, please, spare me that!" Sirius answered, kicking away all the covers and jumping off the bed, "You know what? I don't think this is gonna work. Look at us, two days in and we're already trying to bite each other's heads off."

"I'm trying to do no such thing, Sirius, if you could just—"

"I'm gonna go sleep on the couch," he said in a definitive voice, looking straight into his eyes, "Comes morning, we're getting two different beds instead of this one."

James frowned, annoyed at him. "Fine," he growled, "Do what you want. But you're wrong about this. I don't understand why you're so angry— but you're wrong about this."

"Whatever, James," Sirius said, turning away from him, "Whatever."

He left the room. Spent the rest of the night lying motionless on the couch, hoping and fearing James would come out of the bedroom to talk to him. James didn't.

*

Remus didn't look at him, and Sirius felt like dying. He watched him lying there on the bed, his face turned the other way, his hands clutched around the messed up sheets, his legs still parted. He counted the bitemarks on his skin. Stopped at ten 'cause they were ten more than he could bear already.

"Are you done yet?" Remus asked. His voice didn't sound cold. Hurt, yes, perhaps a little angry. Not cold – never cold. Sirius thought about his own voice when he broke into his house and pushed him against the wall, saying he needed to fuck right now. That voice was cold. His own voice was cold. 

Remus didn't deserve this - no one did.

"I'm sorry," he said, rolling off him. Remus instantly reached for the blanket, covering himself and turning on his side, not to face him. Sirius got close to him right away, putting a hand on his shoulder, fully expecting him to push him away – Remus didn't. "Moony, please. I'm so sorry."

"Of course you are, Sirius," he simply answered, refusing to look at him.

"Can you forgive me?" Sirius asked, his voice breaking.

"Not right now, no," Remus answered. A thousand times Sirius would have preferred going through the shattering pain of a Cruciatus Curse than hearing him say something like that again. 

"... I'm sorry," he repeated, looking down.

"Yeah, you already said that," Remus said, suddenly turning to look at him. His eyes were fiery with disappointment. Never cold, though, never that. "You can't do that," he said, his voice shaky, "That's not what I'm here for. I'm not here to feed off the leftovers and I'm not here to be a punching ball whenever you need it. Either I'm here to be with you for myself, or I'm not here to be anything at all. I can't be James," he added, and then bit into his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. "It's already hard enough, Sirius," he said then, calming down again, "Don't make it harder than it already is."

*

When he came back home that night, all the lights were off, and the moment he tried to turn them on James' voice stopped him, coming from some unidentifiable spot in the darkness. It was low, and there was a pleading accent to it, something Sirius had rarely if ever heard from him.

"James?" he called out, trying to figure out where he was, "I can't see anything."

"Just don't turn the lights on," he repeated. There was something wrong with him, clearly, his usual arrogance and cockiness disappeared somewhere, Sirius didn't know where. Maybe James had consumed it entirely going about 24 hours without him. He liked to think of James as depending from him to be truly himself, even though he knew it was nothing but a delusion.

"Fine," he said with a sigh, extracting his wand. He whispered " _Lumos_ " and pointed the little light at the end of his wand in all directions, studying the surroundings. 

James was sitting on the couch underneath the window, curled up like a little animal at the bottom of his nest, and he instantly whined when Sirius pointed the wand towards him. "I asked you not to turn the light on."

"And I didn't," Sirius said, putting the wand away, "But I needed to take a look at the room. We've been here just a few days. I don't know my way yet."

James didn't say anything, but now that his eyes was getting used to the dark Sirius could see him shrug dismissively. He walked towards him and sat down on the couch, huffing wearily, but he kept his mouth shut, not knowing what to say. He was still angry, of course he was, at James for being an idiot and at himself for being a bastard with Remus because of that, but as always distance from James had made all the other problems irrelevant like far off figures in the dark, and his proximity, now, was making them entirely disappear.

"I hate it," James said, his voice dark and low, "I hate it when we fight."

Sirius sighed again. He needed to be patient. Needed to keep himself straight. Needed not to give in to the powerful pull tugging him towards James like sunflowers to the light. "I didn't wanna fight," he said, "I was excited about moving in together. But it isn't working."

"I don't understand."

"And I can't explain. So we've got a problem."

James kept quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Then his voice rose, low and threatening like a growl. "You wouldn't mind moving in with Remus."

Sirius fought against himself to keep his own rage at bay. How dared him speak of Remus, of the things he wouldn't mind doing with Remus. James didn't know the first thing about him and Remus, didn't care at all about it. "You need to drop this Remus thing," he said hoarsely, clutching his hands in fists.

"I can't."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just can't. Maybe it's because you don't share him with me."

"He's my boyfriend!" Sirius half-yelled, turning to look at James' outline in the dark, "Do you expect me to share him with you?!"

"Yes!" James yelled back, "Like you share everything else!"

"You can't _touch_ him, James!"

"I'm not talking about that kind of sharing, idiot!" James answered, outraged, "It's the fact that you don't let me in that drives me crazy! You two are a secret you don't wanna share with me! What you do, what you feel when we're together, your plans, your dreams, what makes you laugh, what you talk about when you're alone, you don't let me in in any of that! I share Lily with you, you know what I do with her, what I want to do with her, everything about us I tell you!"

"Yes, and you never stopped, not even for a moment, to ask yourself if I _wanted to hear_!"

James paused for a moment, still as if Sirius had just struck him with a paralyzing spell. Sirius couldn't see the glimmer of his eyes, only the outline of his glasses shining with the moonlight. "What does that mean?" James asked, his voice shaky, "What's your problem?!"

" _My_ problem, James?!" Sirius yelled, " _Mine_?! What's _your_ problem, how can you be so blind?!"

James backed away a couple inches, tensing all over. Sirius could feel it on his own skin as if James' fear was something physical, a cloak or a blanket, enveloping them both. "I don't wanna talk about this."

"No, sure, you only wanna talk about the things you can control, don't you?" Sirius growled, "When it's me, when it's something about me you can't control, you don't wanna talk about it."

"This is nonsense."

"It isn't and you know it. It's been years, James," his voice broke off and he couldn't bring himself to stop it, despite how ashamed it made him feel to show him such weakness just when he was been the worst possible version of himself, "I'm fucking tired— I don't understand what's happening in here, I don't know why you wanted this to begin with. Share a house! I must've been spellbound not to see the disaster it would turn out to be! Look at us!"

"Every time you say _look at us_ , it's always you who's screaming at me! Look at _yourself_!"

"No, it's _us_ , James. It's us. I'm tired of fighting."

"Then stop fighting with me!"

"It's not just you!" Sirius screamed, grabbing him by his shoulders hard enough to feel James' powerful muscles shift underneath his fingers, hard enough to feel his bones creak, "I'm tired of fighting against myself too, I'm tired of keeping this in!"

"Stop—" James whined, half-panicking, trying to free himself from his hold, "Shut up— This is not—"

"Stop _running_ from it, James!" Sirius screamed louder, done with his fears, done with the struggle, done with this situation, done with James too, with his attitude, his selective blindness and deafness, that had to stop, "Why did you want me to move in with you?"

"Because you're my best friend!"

"Why do you want to know about Remus?"

"Because you're my best friend!"

"Why do you _tease me_ , James, why the fuck do you tease me, why can't you leave me alone?!"

"Because I'm _jealous_!" James screamed, trying to push him away.

Sirius didn't let him. He was done with that too – letting him choose. Letting him decide. Letting him run this relationship as he ran everything else in his life, carelessly, recklessly, mindless of the pain he inflicted others by just being his careless, reckless, beautiful self. 

He leaned in, pressing his lips against James' in a furious kiss, one hand on his nape to make it impossible for him to run away. No more running, James, no more lies. This is me, he thought furiously as he pinned him down on the couch, this is us, this is the us you've been running away from since we were just kids.

James protested softly against his lips, putting up some sort of resistance. But he was melting – Sirius could feel it. He was melting, Sirius saw it in the way his movements changed in purpose and direction, in the way he suddenly stopped pushing and started drawing him in, in the way his fingers stopped closing in fists and opened wide against his chest, in the way his legs – Sirius' heart was out of control, his breathing erratic and uneven, his head was spinning, was he even still alive? – his legs parted and then closed behind Sirius' back, possessively, selfishly, even. 

That was no kiss, that was war. That was a violent revolution, and it tasted good the way sometimes blood did when spilled during a righteous fight.

And then it suddenly stopped, and Sirius' heart skipped a beat, and suddenly he could see James again, could see him move away, push, back off. "No," he muttered, standing up, "No, this is all wrong. This is fucked up. I have to speak with Remus."

"What?!" Sirius didn't move from the couch, couldn't move, perhaps, petrified on the spot, paralyzed by fear, "No! James! This— You can't talk with Remus about this."

"But I have to," James was still muttering confusedly. He looked so shaken. That was years of castles in the air crumbling down on top of him. Years of believing he could control this, he could get through this, only to find out he couldn't. It was the first time Sirius could see James for what he really was - not the charming, undefeatable hero he had always thought him to be, sometimes demanded him to be, even, to keep his dreams alive, but a boy of nineteen, as lost as he himself was, facing the immensity of this unnamed something binding them together, something they both had let grow randomly, in all directions, infiltrating every sphere of their lives, out of control.

He stood up, walking towards him. James didn't move away, but looked at him with confused, liquid eyes. Now Sirius could see them. He could see the moon reflected in them as he would at the bottom of a well. He knew he could’ve thrown himself head first down that well, could've died hitting his head against hard, cold stone bottom, and he wouldn't have cared. 

But then there was the moon. And it made him think of Remus. 

"You can't talk to Remus about this," he said, "Please. Remus must never know."

He saw something shift in James' eyes. He was lost and ready to get closer to him again at Sirius' slightest invitation just a moment before, and now he was looking at him like a traitor, fire in his eyes, as he stepped back. "I think you're sleeping on the couch again," he said mercilessly.

Sirius dropped his arms down his sides, defeated, at a loss of words. He stood still, watching him move away, listening to the banging noise of the bedroom door as he slammed it closed. The night was silent, and dark again. No moon to be reflected in anyone's eyes. And he couldn't even run back to Remus – not with James' smell still lingering on his clothes, not knowing he was gonna keep them on all night just not to lose it.

*

He knew something was wrong with Remus the moment he stepped foot inside his house. His heart started beating faster – he was scared about this, scared about what he’d found walking in Remus’ bedroom.

He didn’t knock, he just opened the door. Remus was sitting on the bed, his back against the header, his legs crossed, a book open on his lap. He was wearing old, worn out clothes and his hair were a tangled mess, and as always just looking at him was enough to make Sirius want him.

But something was wrong with Remus, it was clear in the way he refused to look at him, in the way he struggled to keep control – Sirius knew it, Remus was struggling, he could feel his muscles strain as if they were his own – to flip quietly through the pages of his book, as if he was really interested in what he was reading.

“Moony—“

“You should really have sent an owl,” he said, his voice bitter, “I’m kind of busy right now.”

This is spiraling out of control, Sirius thought, holding his breath, I don’t like it.

“I needed to see you,” he answered, his voice breaking.

Remus finally turned to look at him, closing the book and putting it away. He didn’t move from his sitting position on the bed, though. As if he didn’t think Sirius was worth it. “That’s pretty obvious. That’s the only reason you ever come here, isn’t it? When you need to see me.”

Sirius’ heart dropped down into his stomach, leaving a black pit behind. “Remus, please.”

“No, I should say please, Sirius,” Remus answered, still his controlled self, “You don’t get to say please to me. You don’t get to ask for anything, when you give nothing in return.”

Sirius clenched his teeth, clutching his fists down his sides. “I’m sorry James—“

“James?” Remus raised an eyebrow, looking at him, “You think that’s what I’m angry about? James coming here to tell me what happened?”

“Remus, seriously, it’s _not_ what you think it is,” Sirius hastened to say, shaking his head, “We kissed, but—“

“But what? But you don’t love him? But you never really did? But you don’t really wanna fuck him? Come on, Sirius. Are you gonna lie to me now?”

Sirius instantly shut up, biting at his tongue. I’m sorry you had to know it, he’d like to say, I’m sorry James had to tell you, but more importantly, I’m sorry you’re having to go through it to begin with.

Remus sighed, passing a hand through his messy hair. A crack in the wall. Sirius could see the real Remus behind it, the one the wolf hadn’t shaped into a man used to constantly dive his claws into his own skin to keep it from falling down like an oversized, ragged piece of clothing. The distressed boy who found himself in love with a bastard, and an idiot, and they weren’t even the same person.

“Sirius, James was never the problem,” he explained, finally looking back at him, “But I knew it, I always knew there was a chance you’d be, in the way you’d deal with it when the moment came.”

Sirius looked down. He knew what Remus meant with that. His words burned like freshly inflicted wounds, and they burned even more because he knew Remus was right.

“How am I handling it?” he asked. He was aching for absolution, but he knew it wouldn’t come, he knew he didn’t deserve it.

“Poorly,” Remus answered.

His voice was something Sirius never thought it’d be.

His voice was cold.

*

He could always tell when James wasn’t pleased to see him, and that was because it rarely ever happened. There had been fights and there had been hours of not talking to one another, there had been snarky remarks and punitive hexes, and there had been different times in which there was no fighting involved, and no silence, no mockery and no hex, times in which they simply couldn’t look at one another, for random reasons, they just woke up like that, and dealing with it was hard enough without having to talk about it, and so they simply avoided each other, just like that, waiting for it to get better.

James seemed to think that was one of those times. Or at least, facing a situation he couldn’t explain with anything ever happened between them before, he had simply chosen to handle it as he would handle those times, and so, when he saw Sirius appear in the doorframe, he stood up from the couch and headed straight for the bedroom.

“Wait,” Sirius said. He expected James to ignore him, to keep running away, he expected having to chase him, but James stopped right away, his eyes locked to the floor. He couldn’t even look at him. Was that shame? Was he even capable of shame? Up to a few days before Sirius could’ve sworn he’d be able to answer any kind of question about James. But that, right then, that escaped him. “You’ve talked with Remus,” he said in a low voice, “I had asked you not to.”

“I _had_ to,” James answered, keeping his eyes down, “You don’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“I don’t need to _try_ you, I _know_ you.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Sirius replied, and to that James couldn’t avoid raising his gaze on him. His eyes were cloudy and confused and his whole expression screamed of unspeakable pain.

“Don’t say that,” he said in a shaky voice.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault,” Sirius replied, “You know a lot about me. Perhaps more than anybody else. But there are things you don’t know. Or at least, I don’t think you do.”

“Things don’t matter,” James answered, looking at him, “I know _you_. That’s how I knew you’d get angry. That’s how I know that even if I explain it to you, you’ll still be angry.”

“Just tell me already, James,” Sirius cut it out, groaning, “I’m tired of this.”

“Remus helps me get my shit straight,” James spat out then, “Like it or not. I talk to him. And every time it’s like I’m pouring the ocean on him, and he still manages to put it all in jars.”

“Fuck, James,” Sirius passed a hand through his hair, trying to get them out of his face, “Don’t you understand how selfish this is? He’s my boyfriend, he loves me, he didn’t sign up for this, for me and you, he only signed up for me!”

“That’s not true,” James insisted stubbornly, “He’s okay with that. He wants me to do it. He keeps me in check with that, don’t you understand?”

“He’s _angry_ , James! I’ve just been with him and he’s angry!”

“Of course he is! I am! You should be too! Why do you have to keep that hidden, that anger— why are you always like this? You keep your mouth shut, you think people must be protected by what you feel, this is wrong, we need to talk about things!”

“You tell me about it!” Sirius replied, dumbstruck, “You! I’ve asked you a thousand times in the last three days! Why did you want this? Why am I here? What _is_ your problem, Prongs?!”

“The problem— the reason of all this,” James finally said, looking down, “Is I consider you mine. Something of mine.”

Sirius stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped thinking. Was he imagining things, now? Had James really spoken the words?

“…what—“

“I’ve considered you mine since I first saw you. This is not about love. Or friendship, even. Of course I love you, of course you’re my best friend. But this is something else. This— thinking I own you. I don’t know why I think that. I just do.”

But you do, Sirius’ heart was screaming louder than it had ever done, you do, I’m yours. 

“And so when school was over I thought— there, I’m losing him. And I was with Lily, I was and I will be, and you’re with Remus now, and I hope you will be too, but losing my grip on you, that I can’t do. That’s why I wanted this, that’s why I wanted you here. That’s why I keep— I’m not doing it intentionally, Sirius, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing half the time. It’s just I look at you. And I think you’re mine. And I need to _have_ you, I can’t explain it better than that. And I talked about it with Remus, not because I wanted to spite you, you idiot, but because it was the fair thing to do, the right thing to do, and Remus thought I should tell you, so— here it is, it’s out now, I told you. Do with it what you want.”

He stopped talking almost abruptly, and Sirius watched him turn around, ready to leave, once again.

“No,” he said in a whisper, and then he repeated it, as he reached out for him, as he held his wrist in his closed fist, stopping him before he could run, “No! You don’t get to do that, James! You don’t get to tell me something like that and then walk away and leave me to deal with it on my own!”

“I don’t know what else to tell you!” James raised his voice, trying to break free from his hold, “I get that you’re angry! I’m sorry for Remus! But I _don’t know what else to tell you_ , Sirius, do you understand that?!”

“I don’t care, I don’t— James, please, come here, I give up, I don’t care, I just—“ he tugged at his wrist, please turn around, he held him by his shoulders, please don’t _ever_ fucking leave, he pulled him in, closer, closer, and then he felt his lips and they were salty, was he crying?, and then his teeth, biting instead of kissing, and the gentle vibration of his moans as he swallowed them one after the other, I don’t care, I give up, just as long as I can have this, even if only for one moment, even if only for _right now_ , just don’t leave, just kiss me, kiss me, and it wasn’t his voice asking for it, kiss me, kiss me, it was James, he was speaking, clinging to him, kiss me, pressing himself against him, kiss me, I want it, and reality faded away, lost its meaning altogether, nothing meant anything anymore, just James, James meant everything, James was everything, and Sirius held him tight, desperately, slamming him into the wall, I love you so much I almost hate you.

“Don’t stop,” James whispered, tugging at his t-shirt, “Do it right— do it once, but do it right.”

His voice dripped like honey down his spine, making Sirius shake inside. Had he spoken about that with Remus too, he couldn’t help but wondering, had Remus given permission to this? And would he have stopped, now, now that James wanted him naked skin against his skin, would he had stopped if he had known Remus wasn’t okay with this, that he’d resent it for it?

“I said don’t stop,” James whined, holding his face between his hands, turning him down just to kiss him again, “Later— We’ll talk about it later, I promise, I won’t be a pain in the ass, I’ll be better, but please, just— just do it now.”

There was more than an underlying order in James’ words, there was begging, there was pleading, and it felt so good to hear his voice shake like that, and at the same time Sirius just wanted it to stop, stop the shaking, stop the pain, everything’s alright, I’ve got you now, I’ll take care of you, leave it to me, I can make it better.

He pushed him back, leading him down the hallway. He couldn’t remember the way to the bedroom and they kept hitting the wall. Every time, James moaned between his lips. Every time, Sirius felt like dying – it’s happening, it’s really happening, just once, but done right.

They fell on the bed as if they were weightless. The bed didn’t creak, there was no soft huffing of the blanket adjusting underneath their bodies. Everything remained still, everything except them. Sirius took his shirt off, reveled in the way James eyes ate him alive, hungry and fiery and clouded by lust. That was not all there was to them. That wasn’t love and wasn’t friendship – it wasn’t even mere desire, but it was the closest they could get to the way they called to one another, resonating souls, the close they could get to fuse into one, and now that Sirius could see it, now that he could understand it, that he had nothing to pine for, he had nothing to suffer silently through, that they just needed to get there, just once but done right, it seemed easier, now, whatever’s waiting for them at the end of the tunnel, with Lily, with Remus, with life claiming them comes tomorrow morning.

It would be easier. Knowing whatever he would feel, James would feel it just the same.

He dove inside him and didn’t think about the pain. James yelled only once, then he settled. “Fuck,” he whispered breathlessly, clinging to his shoulders, “Fuck, this is everything,” and he didn’t have to explain it to him, because Sirius knew what he meant. It was everything, it really was. There was no better way to define it.

They lied down together on the bed, after it was over. Lying on their backs, they stared at the ceiling. They were still warm all over, still tingling with the last drops of pleasure leaking out of them slowly, like sand through the neck of an hourglass.

“Did he scream at you, when you told him?” Sirius asked after a while, looking at him.

James shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “He wasn’t angry,” he said, “Just resigned, I guess. I admire him for being able to live with this. In his place, I probably wouldn’t.”

“That’s why he’s my boyfriend, not you,” Sirius answered with half a smirk.

James turned to look at him, frowning. “You really are an idiot,” he scolded him sternly, “You need to start treating him better. He’s no crystal doll, you know, he’s a fucking werewolf. And he’s immensely stronger than you. Respect that.”

Sirius smiled, nodding slowly. “You’re right,” he said, “I’m an idiot. And I will.”

James smiled back at him and turned on his stomach, rolling closer to him. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at Sirius, a wicked smile lingering on his lips. “One last kiss,” he said, “You’re a damn good kisser, Pads.”

Sirius laughed out loud, pulling him down with a hand on his nape. Damn right he was. James better know what he was gonna miss from now on.

*

When Remus opened the door, Sirius already knew what to expect, and so, before he could slam it back on his nose, he put a hand on it, to keep it open. “I’m sorry!” he yelled, looking at him with pleading eyes, “I’m an idiot! I’m the worst! I fucked up! James and I fixed it! Now I’m gonna be better, I promise!”

Remus stared at him, completely unimpressed with his words, for the good part of a minute, and then sighed, moving away from the door to let him in. “You’d deserve to be beaten just for saying you _fixed it_ ,” he said, leaning against his desk for a moment and then sitting on it with his legs crossed, “You’re really unbelievable. You both are. Not that I didn’t know what I was getting myself mixed up with when I met you, but still. You managed to surpass my wildest fantasies.”

“We’re both sorry,” Sirius replied, walking towards him and then stopping right in front of him, “But it’s done now. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but please don’t break up with me. I love you.”

“I know you do,” Remus answered, bumping him on his head. His voice wasn’t cold anymore. Sirius couldn’t remember ever being any happier with how his life looked like. “That was never in question. And as long as it’s done—“

“It is.”

“Then I can live with it,” Remus sighed, “It can’t be any harder than what I’ve lived with up to now. Besides, I’m a fucking werewolf.”

“That’s what James said too.”

“Yeah. What he didn’t say and probably didn’t even think of, because he’s just as dumb as you are, is: since I’m a fucking werewolf, _you two better watch your backs_. If you fuck up again, I will have my sweet revenge.”

Sirius chuckled, leaning in and kissing Remus on his nose, and then on his lips. Remus kissed him back, wrapping his arms around his neck, possessively.

“So,” he said then, “How was it, after all these years of waiting?”

“Well, I have to say,” Sirius shrugged, waving his hand mid-air, “I expected more. You know how it is when you wait, wait, wait, and then you get that something you’ve always wanted, but it’s not quite—“

“It was mind-blowing, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not sure I should ever answer that question.”

“Werewolf. Sweet revenge. Lying counts as fucking up.”

“It was amazing,” Sirius nodded, “Please don’t get angry at me.”

Remus laughed in his face, shaking his head. “You’re such an idiot,” he said, stroking his cheek affectionately. “Will you get a second bed, now?”

“Nah,” Sirius smiled, moving away to let Remus jump off the desk, “Won’t be necessary. We’re cool, now. We did it right enough.”

“Remember,” Remus said, walking nonchalantly towards the bed, “Werewolf. Sweet revenge.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sirius answered, following him with his eyes as Remus climbed on it, “What’s happening?” he asked, uncertain on how to translate Remus kneeling on the mattress and taking his t-shirt off.

“What do you mean what’s happening?” Remus grinned, taking off his pants, “Do you need a hint?”

Sirius almost tripped, running towards him.


End file.
